Crawling Across My Skin
by SergeantPixie
Summary: "She's not going to be the Elena you know, Damon. She'll be—different. She only comes here when something is really wrong. When she feels guilty. When she needs her brain to shut off. When she needs to feel more than just human. When she needs to forget." 2x09


**AN: Ummmm. Hi? Don't have much to say….takes place after 2x09 (Katerina). Title is taken from Dance With the Devil by Breaking Benjamin. Recommended listening is Lips Like Morphine by Kill Hannah. It's what I wrote the fic to. REVIEW**

** Crawling Across My Skin**

"Jenna have you seen Elena recently?" Stefan asks in his usual worrying tone. Damon stands behind him silently. Jenna raises her head from her laptop and frowns.

"No, not since yesterday afternoon, I thought she was with you," Jenna says, her brows creased. "When did you see her last?" She questions slowly, as if she's afraid of the answer. The sun has long since set. It's pitch black outside, and it makes Damon feel uncomfortable. He knows what comes out at night, and he doesn't want any of them anywhere near Elena.

"Last night," Stefan answers. Images of a distraught Elena flash through Damon's mind. Whatever Katherine had told her during their little chat had really messed her up. She hadn't been able to articulate her pain, instead sobbing helplessly against Stefan's shoulder until she succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep. She was gone when they woke up the next morning. She isn't answering her phone. Stefan tells Jenna this and comprehension dawns in Jenna's dark eyes. She clears her face easily.

"Why don't you go ask Caroline and Bonnie, they can tell you where she'd go if she needed to be alone," Jenna suggests lightly. She locks eyes with Damon and he can see the command in her eyes. _Stay. _They tell him. He complies. Stefan spouts out a quick thank you and dashes out the door. He doesn't even notice that Damon isn't following him. Jenna waits until he's really gone before she verbally attacks Damon.

"What the hell happened?" She hisses ferociously, her eyes narrowed. Damon raises his hands defensively.

"I don't know, I got home and she was crying all over Stefan's shoulder and the next thing I know it's morning and she's nowhere to be seen," Damon explains. "Now are you going to tell me where she is?" He demands impatiently. She rolls her eyes and stands, snatching her purse and her jacket up.

"You drive, I give directions. I know exactly where she is," Jenna says grimly. Damon follows her to the door. She stops suddenly and turns to meet his eyes with hers. Her face is deadly serious. "No matter what happens, you will not tell anyone else, not even Stefan, okay?" She commands in a low calm voice. Damon nods hesitantly.

* * *

"She used to do this a lot the summer after her parent's died. She'd disappear for days on end. She'd come back disheveled and quiet. God, she was so quiet. Her clothes would be sweaty and rumpled, her hair limp and chaotic. She was so thin. Painfully so. She barely ate. Didn't sleep when she was home. Her eyes would be so blank. Like she wasn't even there, and she wasn't, not really. I was so worried. I was going out of mind, so I followed her.

"She got into her car and drove to this dark, dirty club. The bouncer let her in right away and she went straight to the dance floor. And then she danced. All night. She didn't talk to anyone. She didn't drink, didn't do anything but dance. She'd lose herself in the music. And then when the club finally closed she'd drag her tired body to her car and she'd fall asleep in the back. She'd sleep until the club opened the next night and then she'd do it all over again.

"The bartender would try to make her eat something, he practically forced water down her throat. She didn't want to do anything but dance. She danced until her feet were numb and her mind was silent. And then one day I didn't have to come find her and drag her home. She just stopped going. I thought it was because she was finally healing, but looking back now I can see it was only because she didn't want me to worry about her anymore.

"She's not going to be the Elena you know, Damon. She'll be—different. She only comes here when something is really wrong. When she feels guilty. When she needs her brain to shut off. When she needs to feel more than just human. When she needs to forget."

* * *

The bouncer lets them in right away; Damon can tell he's very familiar with Jenna. The club is just as dark and dirty as Jenna described it. The music is raunchy and heavy. The bass pounds through air that is thick with euphoria and lust. It's the perfect feeding grounds. But Damon has more important things on his mind. He scans the dance floor for Elena. Finally he spots her.

She's wearing nothing but a thin tank top and a loose skirt that hangs off of her hips tantalizingly. Her hair is a chaotic mess somewhere between straight and curly and nowhere near wavy. Her head is thrown back carelessly and she dances with an exquisite blonde girl. The blonde drapes an arm over Elena's shoulder and moves her hips in time with hers. Elena lazily tips her head back down to give the girl a hazy smile. The song ends and another begins.

Jenna tugs on his arm and gestures towards the bar. He nods in understanding. It'll be easier to wait until the song's over. He follows her to the bar and they sit down. Jenna turns to chat with the bartender but Damon keeps his eyes on Elena.

Her whole body glistens with sweat. The blonde can't keep her hands off of Elena. Her fingers slide all along the contours of Elena's hips, down the line of her spine, and along the planes of her stomach. Something akin to jealousy twinges within. But he's not jealous. Sure, for a little while this effortlessly beautiful blonde girl gets to put her hands all over Elena, gets to dance with her, but it's just for now. She only gets a dance. Damon has already danced with Elena, and he wants so much more than just one dance with her.

Elena's eyes lazily roam the club, and eventually she spots them. Her eyes lock with Damon and he can see the confusing swirl of emotions behind the euphoria of the dance. The music has worked its way into her bloodstream, and she is no longer simply Elena. She is no one at all.

She feels nothing but the rhythm of the drums and the pounding of the bass. She is a body moving to the music, not a mind, not a soul, not a heart. Just a body. She doesn't feel anything but the anchoring hands of the blonde girl, holding her to the floor, keeping her from drifting away in the melody.

Damon has never seen her look so free. She looks like chaos. Not a Katherine kind of chaos, all carefully laid plans and violence. She looks like an Elena kind of chaos, free from the restraints of worry and the fear of judgment. This is an Elena Damon wants to know. But then again, Damon wants to know everything about Elena.

It's odd to think that he has already accepted this side of Elena and assimilated it to the one he already knows. But he has. He suspects it would be much harder for Stefan to accept this version of Elena. This reckless entity, free of rational thought and entirely made of animalistic feeling.

When the song ends the blonde kisses the corner of the Elena's mouth and then allows her to walk away. Elena returns to them silently. She reeks of sweat and an unfamiliar expensive perfume. She seems to know her brief bit of freedom was over. She does not fight it. This is the Elena Stefan knows.

**AN: That's it. That's all. REVIEW. Please.**

**xoxo**

**-Pixie**


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